A Star Is Born
by pursuitofirony
Summary: Rick Grimes is a struggling country singer on the brink of the end of his career after a tragic and public scandal; Michonne Carter is a struggling singer who isn't interested in the limelight. When their paths cross, dreams are fulfilled and love is found, but can love survive Michonne's newfound fame? Richonne AU. Based on the movie, but with my own unique twist.
1. Chapter 1

**A Star Is Born **

**Author Note: I'm not sure if I should continue this, but I just felt like writing it. **

**Chapter One: The Masked Singer**

"I dunno, Rick," came the unsure voice of the exec at Rick's label Big Machine Records. Negan - the slimeball exec - fiddled with his mustache, and twisted his body in his chair. He knew that the song was a bonafide country hit, but as his beady eyes landed on the man in front of him, he wasn't completely sure about that.

Rick Grimes had _it_, that thing that makes someone a star, but Rick Grimes also had a basketful of baggage. His recent ex wife was a country legend: Lori Ackerly St James, and they'd just had a very nasty, very public divorce. In that divorce, Lori had been caught cheating on camera with Rick's main guitarist and childhood friend Shane Walsh. The news of their fight after a long night of drinking had been splashed across every tabloid magazine imaginable. And Rick, well Rick had had to go to rehab for alcohol addiction, which was something that Rick refused to admit was even a problem.

Just a week ago, Negan had greeted him in front of rehab and asked him to start work on his next single. He hadn't had a new album in four years and his fans were growing stir crazy. Rick had gotten to work on his new song, but now, as Negan listened to it, the song was missing _it_ \- that thing that turned catchy tune into hit.

"What's wrong with it?" Rick asked, frustrated. He'd played the song nearly one hundred times, but even he knew it needed something, he just didn't know what.

Negan sighed, placing his hands on the front of the table. His tight leather jacket squeaked as his arms struggled to bend. "It's just missing a female voice, I think. It needs a hot piece of ass to really deliver that final hook. We need fresh blood on this track."

"I could ask Dolly to sing -"

" - I don't want Dolly, Debra, or Billy Jean. We need someone new on this, and I need you to recruit her," Negan grinned to himself. "How 'bout you go to a few bars, check out the scene here in Atlanta, and then come back here when you've found her, 'cause if you don't…," Negan trailed off, leaning down to pull out his recording contract. "We're gonna have to drop you from the roster…"

Rick stood, angry, conflicted, confused. Drop him? After Taylor Swift left the label for Republic Records, Rick was their most lucrative artist. He didn't understand. "What do you mean drop me?"

"I mean exactly what I said, Rick Grimes. It's been four years and you haven't made one album. You're writing for other artists, but they aren't hits. You're going to rehab and bringing bad press. At this point, you're lucky that we haven't already fired your sorry ass," Negan said, and then got up. "Like I said, bring me back a hit maker, or you're off the label."

:

Rick scoped the bar. He'd heard that the Northside Tavern was the most popular live bar for aspiring artists in Atlanta, and so he'd come out. Admittedly, he was feeling desperate, and weak, which was unlike him. He'd been feeling this way for awhile now, ever since the divorce, or maybe even before that. It was just that somehow, even though Lori had done all that wrong to him, he was the one left ruined.

He sighed, his eyes scanning the room. He lowered his hat, trying desperately to "blend," but falling short when a young blonde approached him. She was bright eyed and bushy tailed; her light green eyes shone brighter than a lighthouse in the dead of winter, and he knew that she knew exactly who he was. His body froze because it was the first time anyone had approached him post rehab, and he dreaded the disappointment, he honestly dreaded talking to people right now. He'd done enough of that in group therapy.

"Are you - _oh my _God you are!" She squealed, her voice akin to nails scraping against a chalkboard. "I have, like, all of your albums and you, like, made me want to be a country singer.."

Internally, Rick groaned. Of course she was a country singer, of course he inspired her life. Having fans apparently couldn't inspire his musical abilities, or keep his label loyal. "That's nice."

"Thank you!" The young woman said, her zeal was inspiring, and it made him miss when he had that. "I'm Jessie by the way, but I'm thinking of changing my name to Lady J."

"Do it, sounds great," Rick hummed, feigning interest.

At this point, he was hoping the young blonde would catch a hint and leave, but she didn't. Instead, the room filled with a nearly dreadful silence, as everyone whispered amongst themselves about the next act. According to Jessie, she was a mysterious singer who wore a mask and sang here exactly once every three months. Her voice was compared to Ella Fitzgerald, Adele, Whitney Houston, and Amy Winehouse, but nobody could ever get a name, much less a face.

Rick was intrigued.

" - And nobody has ever seen what she looks like?" Rick questioned Jessie, cutting off whatever she'd been previously yapping about.

"_Nobody_. I think the alter ego thing is _so _stupid, like this isn't Hannah Montana. You're singin' at a bar in Atlanta, not Madison Square Garden, am I right?" She quizzed him with a sudden hard edge to her voice. He detected jealousy, but it wasn't something he cared to delve into much deeper.

He just nodded again. "Yeah. Do you happen to know her -"

He was cut off by the sudden opening notes to "I Put A Spell On You," by Nina Simone. A woman stood on stage with a multi-colored Venetian Colombina mask that covered her dark eyes and nose. Her hair was dreaded, and fell in mesmerizing waves around her face. Her lips were painted cherry red; they were full and succulent like a peach in the spring that Rick long to sink his teeth into. Her aura was intoxicating, and not a word had come from her mouth. She stood at the mic, eyes boring into his own as she commanded every person in the room to silence with her mere presence alone. _This girl is a star_, Rick thought to himself. _She's the one_.

A genuine smile spread across Rick's face for the first time in months. He felt excited; he felt... _nervous_. And, for the first time in years, he felt inspired. He wanted to write on the walls about this woman. He wanted to touch the stars with her. He saw her tight red dress, and her creamy brown skin spilling out of her top. He saw her long legs, which lead into a pair of black Doc Martin's with chains criss crossing on the sides.

This woman, she was -

_I put a spell on you_

_Because you're mine_

Her voice. Her voice came and sucked his soul right out of his body; her voice was low and husky, yet warm and silky like honey. Her tone transported him to the 1940s, when women soothed and shook the world with their voices. He imagined this must've been what the first crowd who heard Aretha Franklin live must've felt like. This only enforced his what he already knew. She was the one that he'd been searching for. She had _it_.

:

After the performance, Rick stuck around until nearly five in the morning. He'd asked nearly everyone in the bar about her, but nobody seemed to know who she was. Forlorn, he'd decided to give up and go sit by the bar. He felt that familiar burn in his throat, but managed to resist when a young bartender came over with a knowing look on her face. She looked familiar to him somehow.

"Well if it ain't Pretty Ricky," said the voice he now recognized as his near sister Maggie Greene. Her father Hershel had raised Rick on his own after his tragic childhood, and Rick had even started a duo band with Maggie's younger sister Beth Greene, who went on to become a pop singer.

Rick just shook his head. "And if it ain't stank nose Maggie Greene."

"You call me that again and I just may kick your tail right outta this bar," Maggie said. She was still a spitfire and full of the same country sass that he remembered. "I'm tryin' to figure out why you're in here, after everythin' you been through lately."

"Well, I sorta have to be. I'm lookin' for the next big thing, and I think I found her," Rick sighed. His eyes glazed over at the mere thought of the masked goddess he'd seen earlier in the evening. "Do you know who that masked singer from earlier was? I have a song for her to hear, and an opportunity of a lifetime if she's interested…"

"I know her," Maggie replied, her vague tone only intrigued him more.

"Well, how about you introduce me to her. She's perfect - she's _everything_. I think she'd be the perfect addition to this record I wrote and -"

" - She's not interested," said a voice from behind Maggie.

When she came out, it was none other than the woman from before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: This story will probably be **_**very **_**different to the movie. I just drew a lot of inspiration from it. The song in this chapter is from it, but I'd say this story is more like a **_**Walk The Line **_**meets **_**A Star Is Born**_**. Hope you like. **

**: **

**Chapter Two: Maybe It's Time **

Michonne sighed and stared at the handsome stranger staring back at her. She hadn't meant to address him so sharply, but she was caught off guard by someone coming here searching for her. The last thing she needed right now was some guy with a few records under his belt "discovering" her. Her last boyfriend Mike Jones Jr. had been a relatively famous R & B singer, and his lifestyle was one of tour bus shenanigans and side chicks galore. He was the ultimate cliche.

Now, standing in the face of a massive opportunity, Michonne couldn't deny how tempting it was, but her heart lurched as she remembered her last foray into the music business. That same boyfriend had introduced her to various label execs, and one of them - RCA records - eventually did sign her. She worked her ass off for six months; she met with producers, she wrote and composed her own songs, but right before she was about to release her album, she'd found out that good ol' Mike was cheating on her with a labelmate. She'd broken up with him swiftly, but was dropped from her label in the process.

The disappointment lead her to quitting the music industry for good. What was the point of getting signed and working hard if you meant nothing in the end?

Her thirst for music and performing never left her, and like any addict, the urge consumed her. She'd see her notebook full of songs sitting there, and more than ever, she'd fill it with music that yearned to be played. After what happened though, trusting someone with her dream left a bitter taste in her mouth. The only reason she'd adopted the alter ego of "The Masked Singer" was to make some extra money in order to pay her mom's medical bills and sooth that burn that threatened to spill out.

So "not interested" was an understatement. She wanted this guy out of here and out of her life.

"How 'bout you just listen to it? You can make up your mind after?" Rick questioned her. His eyes were earnest enough, but she couldn't trust them just because they were pretty and blue. "I think you and I are more alike than you think."

Michonne tilted her head, inspecting the cowboy-esque looking man. He wore a cowboy hat, plaid, dark jeans, and a dinged up pair of cowboy boots. Was he unmistakably handsome? Yes, but she wasn't going to melt at a nice pair of biceps, or a plump pair of lips.

"You think you know me?"

Rick just smirked, adjusting his stance. "I can make a few good guesses, darlin'."

She gulped. His accent and drawl hugged and carressed each word, and deep down inside, she'd love to hear what her name would sound like coming from his lips.

"Go ahead then," she challenged him.

"You're jaded because some asshole sold you a dream, used your talents, and spit you out like you were nothing," he said. His words were shrewd, and cut through the bullshit. They were also spot on. "If that's the case, then we're in the same position, which makes us similar."

Michonne turned her back towards him, attempting to walk away. "I'm not going to sit here and let some hick -"

"_Two _time Grammy winning hick, _darlin'," _he said, and she could hear the cocky smirk in his voice. "I know what it's like, not singing, not doin' what you love. I could hear it in your voice that this is what you wanna do for the rest of your life. I know you feel that burn, the one that settles in your chest real nice," he breathed out. She could hear his boots clank across the floor. Maggie sat, slurping on her beer while watching the pair interact. Rick brushed by her, and stood directly behind Michonne. "I know _you_. Let me be the one that makes your dreams come true. Trust me."

Michonne took a deep, shaky breath. His words - his words struck something inside of her, and she felt immediate trust for him. She didn't know a thing about this two time Grammy winning Rick Grimes, but the world of show business seemed to be filled with everyone wearing masks; she just chose to keep hers on.

She turned around, averting her eyes towards the man. He was so close now that she could smell his woodsy, earthy scent. "What's your name?"

"Rick Grimes," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I ain't had to introduce myself...in years."

"Well," Michonne paused, smirking herself. "I'm not exactly the biggest country fan."

Rick chuckled at that, and then simply stared at her once more. Michonne felt like her skin was gasoline to his light; at any moment he could set her aflame. He felt dangerous, but she felt compelled to him. "How 'bout I show you what I can do?"

Michonne just nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Maggie, do you got a guitar back there?"

Maggie just grinned while reaching underneath the bar to retrieve a vintage acoustic guitar. She slung it without warning at Rick, who caught it deftly in his hands.

_Showoff_, Michonne thought, as she saw him adjust his guitar, tune it, and once again caress something, except this time it was with a strong pair of hands. Once he was finished, he simply played a light sounding tune. His guitar skills were good, she'd give them that. And once he got into his groove, he stared up at her from underneath his hat, those piercing blue eyes burning a hole through her skin.

"I really want you," Rick blurted out. "To sing. With me," Rick blushed, awkwardly strumming the guitar.

"Nice job, Fabio," Maggie said, snickering.

"Shut up, Mags," Rick growled out, annoyed at his "little sister" ruining his moment.

Michonne just giggled, enjoying the banter between her best friend and this Rick Grimes.

"I really want you, so I'm gonna be honest about what this song means and where I wrote it," Rick repeated, his guitar strums turning determined. "I wrote it in rehab for alcohol addiction. I'm not - I'm not an alcoholic, but when I drink, I get pretty stupid and this song is me reflectin' on what made me so mad."

Michonne stared, wide eyed. This stranger trusted her with his personal demons, which scared and confused her. She decided that she'd listen to his song, because clearly they both shared the same love for music. She'd never really encountered many people who genuinely loved it as much as she did.

"_Maybe it's time to let the old ways die  
Maybe it's time to let the old ways die  
It takes a lot to change a man  
Hell, it takes a lot to try  
Maybe it's time to let the old ways die_

_Nobody knows what awaits for the dead  
Nobody knows what awaits for the dead  
Some folks just believe in the things they've heard  
And the things they read  
Nobody knows what awaits for the dead_

_I'm glad I can't go back to where I came from  
I'm glad those days are gone, gone for good  
But if I could take spirits from my past and bring' 'em here  
You know I would, you know I would _-"

" - Stop," Michonne told him.

"What?" He asked, confused. "That bad?"

"No, it's really good. You're really good. I'll sing with you," she smiled softly. "But first, we need to write a new song."

"You don't like this one?" He asks, wounded. His pretty eyes dim.

Michonne shakes her head, and then comes closer to him. "This is _your _song and _your _story. If I'm going to sing with you, then we're going to create one together. How's that sound?"

Michonne sees his eyes glimmer with hope and relief.

"I never got your name…," Rick trails off.

"My name's Michonne Carter," she tells him.

"Well, _Michonne_, how's 'bout we write this song," Rick says.

She simply nods while grabbing his arm, and pulls him out into the parking lot. The sun's nearly rising beyond the clouds in a beautiful array of reds, golds, and blues. It was dawn, a new day, and the start of something new.


End file.
